


Not So Bad

by write_away



Series: We May Look Easy Pickings [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Kid Fic, it's baby Amis basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:29:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_away/pseuds/write_away
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Enjolras scowls, but five minutes later, Miss Fantine leaves and he’s stuck sitting across the table from Grantaire with his orange slices and bologna sandwich while Mr. Valjean reads a book. He glowers at the other boy, trying to convey his annoyance without saying anything, because if he says anything, Mr. Valjean will try to talk to him about it and he’s really tired of talking.</i>
</p><p>  <i>As if this punishment wasn’t bad enough, he has to spend it with Grantaire. </i><br/> <br/>It isn't fair, but there's not much Enjolras can do about it right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second drabble in the We May Look Easy Pickings 'verse, but the order in which you read them is unnecessary! The Amis are mostly in first and second grade, with a few older exceptions. Enjoy!

Enjolras isn’t sure if hiding from his session with Mr. Valjean is worth the punishment anymore.

Grantaire is already sitting at the little sticker-covered table in the guidance office, swinging his legs cheerfully as he picks apart a peanut butter sandwich and nibbles on just the crust. His eyes alight when he sees Enjolras at the door. Enjolras picks a twig out of his hair and kicks the carpet. 

“Jean,” Miss Fantine says softly, her grip on Enjolras’s shoulder tightening only slightly when he tries to squirm away. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t bring him for your session earlier. We just found him in a tree on the playground.”

Mr. Valjean is always really nice and always gives him lollipops after their meetings, but Enjolras still doesn’t like that Mr. Javert makes him come every single day to discuss his “behavioral problems.” All Mr. Valjean does is ask him a lot of questions about his father and his mother and Enjolras doesn’t really know what they have to do with anything when it comes to things just not being fair at school.

Mr. Valjean just smiles and stands up from his desk to pull out the second chair from the little table. “Not a problem. Enjolras can just join Grantaire and me for lunch. You don’t mind, Grantaire, do you?”

Grantaire shakes his head rapidly, his cheeks puffed out with sandwich crusts and apple juice. He waves at Enjolras with sticky jelly-covered fingers.

Enjolras scowls, but five minutes later, Miss Fantine leaves and he’s stuck sitting across the table from Grantaire with his orange slices and bologna sandwich while Mr. Valjean reads a book. He glowers at the other boy, trying to convey his annoyance without saying anything, because if he says anything, Mr. Valjean will try to _talk to him_ about it and he’s really tired of talking.

As if this punishment wasn’t bad enough, he has to spend it with _Grantaire_.

He doesn’t _hate_ Grantaire, not really, even though he knows he said it on the playground last month after Grantaire teased him for wearing a skirt. He had said it was stupid to do that, because he was going to get in trouble, and then Jean got sad. Enjolras knows Grantaire only wanted to make him mad and that he didn’t want to hurt Jean’s feelings too, because he shared his brownie with Jean after and even braided his hair, but that doesn’t make Enjolras any less mad. He doesn’t want to talk to Grantaire at _all_.

Grantaire doesn’t get the hint. “I punched Montparnasse,” he says proudly after swallowing his mouthful. He slurps at his apple juice loudly and smiles. “What ‘bout you?”

Enjolras pouts and picks at a dog-shaped sticker that’s beginning to peel. Grantaire does karate – he’s always bragging about how he wins tournaments and stuff, but Enjolras doesn’t believe him, because he always comes into school with bruises, and if he’s really winning, why does he get hurt all the time? Grantaire is just a liar. “That’s stupid. He’s in fourth grade. And big. And you’re _not._ ”

Grantaire huffs. “I’m bigger than _you_ ,” he says indignantly, and Enjolras swears his vision goes white in pure anger. One of Grantaire’s swinging legs hits Enjolras instead of the table leg, drawing him out of his rage with mere shock. “Oh. Sorry.”

Enjolras doesn’t say anything at first, preferring to steam in silence, picking away the crust of his sandwich until it’s all in a neat little pile. “I called Mr. Javert stupid.” He hesitates, casting a glance at Mr. Valjean before lowering his voice. “And I stomped on his foot.”

Grantaire nods once in approval, a smile tugging on the sides of his lips. Grantaire shifts in his seat until he’s kneeling and can lean across the table to whisper, “Did he yell?”

Enjolras tries to fight a wicked giggle, because Mr. Javert scream had sounded like Cosette does when Eponine pulls her hair. “Yup. But now I have to come here every day during art class for a _week_.”

Grantaire looks mildly scandalized at the injustice, which Enjolras is sort of happy about, but he doesn’t get a chance to say anything.

“Boys,” Mr. Valjean says from his desk with a hint of warning. Enjolras twists around to see him peek over the edge of his book. “You do know that you’re being punished right now, right?”

“But it’s not fair!” they accidentally chorus. Enjolras blushes, because he hates agreeing with Grantaire, but Grantaire beams.

Mr. Valjean sighs, and Enjolras cringes, because that’s the sigh he always makes when he’s about to make a speech about being good and following the rules. Enjolras hates those speeches, because when something isn’t fair, he shouldn’t have to do it.

“We’re just talking,” Enjolras whines, because even though he doesn’t like Grantaire, he’d rather talk to him than sit here in agonizing silence with puppy stickers staring at him. “ _Please_?”

Mr. Valjean meets his gaze and holds it for so long that Enjolras loses count of the seconds and has to start over. “If you can get along,” Mr. Valjean finally says, relenting and looking away, shaking his head with a fond smile, “then you can talk quietly. How about you both draw me some pictures while you eat? Grantaire, you know where the crayons are.”

Grantaire leaps off his chair dramatically and lands on both feet gracefully. “Kay!” he chimes and scurries over to the cabinet, lugging out a big box of crayons and a pile of colored paper from the bottom shelf. Enjolras rolls his eyes and slides off his chair to help him carry it all back to the table. He doesn’t mind coloring too much, as long as Mr. Valjean doesn’t turn it into a talk about why he doesn’t draw his dad in family pictures anymore.

They color in silence, despite their fight for the right to talk, because Enjolras doesn’t think they have anything to talk about. They’re in different reading groups – Grantaire is in the lowest level and he’s in the highest – and Miss Fantine finished reading _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ out loud three days ago. She says she’s going to read them _Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator_ next, but Grantaire just wrinkles his nose when Enjolras brings it up.

Enjolras decides to draw a dragon, because Feuilly is reading a book about dragons, and he thinks Feuilly might even hang it up if it’s good enough. He’s in high school, so he’s really big, but he’s nicer than most bigger people, and Enjolras thinks he wants to grow up to be just like him. He peeks at Grantaire’s drawing curiously as he reaches for an orange crayon to color in the flames.

“What are _you_ drawing?” he asks, because Grantaire is covering up half the picture with his arm. All he sees are yellow swirls.

Grantaire turns red, but sticks his tongue out tauntingly. “None of your business,” he says and slides his lunchbox over the paper to hide it properly. “Wanna share my brownie?”

Enjolras shrugs and accepts half. Grantaire isn’t so bad all the time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is wonderful.


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